


When Stars Align (A Stormpilot Collection)

by shadowmaat



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 08:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 5,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16850479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowmaat/pseuds/shadowmaat
Summary: A series of one-shots featuring Poe and Finn, from fluff to angst and back again.





	1. Who Needs Sleep?

**Author's Note:**

> I'm pretty sure that even with tumblr's kriffed up algorithm my blog will be safe from the Great Purge, but this seems like a good opportunity to migrate stuff over here for safekeeping.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poe is suffering from self-imposed insomnia to avoid his nightmares. BB-8 has a solution that just might work.

Poe rubbed his eyes with the back of his arm, careful not to get any grease- any  _more_  grease- on his face. At this hour of the night the hangar was virtually abandoned. There were a couple of droids off in one corner working on reassembling an inertial compensator, but otherwise people were doing the sensible thing and getting some sleep while they could.

Things had been suspiciously quiet on the First Order front since the destruction of the Starkiller Base, but it was only a matter of time before retaliation caught up with the Resistance. They’d already moved bases once and chances were they’d be doing it again soon. Poe stifled a yawn and tried to focus on the deflector shield generator of his X-wing.

A warbling query interrupted him and he glanced down to see BB-8 tilting its head back to look up at him.

“Yeah, Beebs, I’m still here.” He forced a smile.

A series of chirps and whistles was emphasized by the droid rocking back and forth. He sighed.

“I’m  _fine_. I told you. I just... really wanted to fix the waver in the generator.” He turned his attention back to what he was doing.

BB-8 chirped, managing to sound irritated.

“And I told you I sensed a waver. I just want to make sure everything is fine before my next run and no,” he said, anticipating the droid’s next argument, “it isn’t that I don’t trust the crew to do it I just... want to do it myself.” 

There was no waver. He knew it. BB-8 knew it. The readouts on the meter knew it. But he just... couldn’t go back to his quarters. Not now. Ever since Jakku he’d been having vivid nightmares of his encounter with Kylo Ren. Even though he knew that it wasn’t his fault and even though the shrinks and General Leia herself had told him there was no way he could have stopped it he couldn’t shake the guilt at being unable to avoid the mind probe.

If the Resistance wasn’t so small (even smaller after the attack on Starkiller) and if Poe wasn’t their best pilot they would have grounded him to give him time to recover. But time was a luxury none of them had and he didn’t think it was possible to ever get over something like that. He was okay for the most part. He was still a damn good pilot and he could laugh and joke with the rest of his squad, but every time he closed his eyes he was right back in that interrogation room with that ugly mask staring at him while the thoughts were ripped-

* * *

Another chirp followed by a series of beeps and whistles.

He twitched, eyes snapping open. “What? No, I’m not tired. Just go plug in, BB-8. I’ll be fine.”

A flat, mechanical equivalent of a raspberry greeted him.

“Do you kiss your Maker with that mouth? Go on, Beebs. Leave me alone. That’s an order!” He waved his hand, sparing a glance for the little droid.

BB-8′s next reply was even more blistering, but it ended with a reluctant warble as the little droid started to roll away. He sighed. He hated having to order it around, but now wasn’t the time to be questioning his wellbeing. He was doing enough of that on his own.

He was getting back into the rhythm of methodically checking circuits that had been checked three times already when he heard someone clear their throat.

“Uh, Poe? You up there?”

He glanced down to see Finn standing beside BB-8. The droid stuck out its microtorch and flicked it on. In other circumstances it might have been meant as an encouraging gesture, but Poe had the distinct feeling he was being flipped off. He ignored it and grinned at Finn.

“Finn, my man! Hang on, I’ll be right down.” He closed and sealed the panels before clambering down.

“Hey,” he said, clasping Finn’s shoulder. “What are you doing out here? You should be lounging in bed, recovering!”

BB-8 made a rude sound that he chose to ignore.

Finn shrugged. He was still a little gray around the edges and had lost some of the shine in his eyes after his own ordeal with Kylo Ren. He was bouncing back, but the physical injuries were slowing things down.

“I couldn’t sleep. And then BB-8 came knocking.” He tilted his head, smiling. “He wouldn’t leave me alone until I followed him. Is everything OK here?”

Poe glared at the droid, whose shiny black optic regarded him with perfect calm.

“Yeah, everything’s great! I was just doing a bit of work on Black One.” He gestured at the X-wing. “I, uh...” He hesitated. He knew damn well he couldn’t send Finn away. Even if BB-8 hadn’t been staring a hole through him there was the fact that he knew too well what “can’t sleep” was like.

“Hey... how are you with X-Wing maintenance?”

Finn’s smile brightened a few shades. “I’m pretty good at handing over tools, right BB-8?” He nudged the droid with his leg.

BB-8 warbled cheerily and Poe had to feign coughing to cover his laugh at the droid’s assessment of skill.

“See? We’ll get this thing ship-shape in no time!” Finn said, oblivious.

They worked for a while longer, the banter coming easily between them. Poe’s mood lightened considerably even as exhaustion started to take its toll.

“Maybe we should call it a night before you need to repair your repairs,” Finn teased as Poe fumbled the hyperspanner for a third time.

“Nah, I’m just...” He trailed off, trying to remember what he was going to say.

“Or... if you’re just not ready to sleep yet I think the rec room is still open.” Brown eyes met his. They were far too knowing, but there was a glimmer in them, too. “I still have a lifetime’s worth of holovids to catch up on that aren’t motivational propaganda or training vids.”

Poe laughed, grateful for the easy out. “Yeah, we gotta work on your education, buddy.”

They headed for the rec room and its projector station. BB-8 had left soon after delivering Finn, making a chirping comment about Poe being in good hands even if his toolbox wasn’t.

Finn was in awe of the base’s collection, but Poe decided to start him off easy with something he remembered loving when he was a kid. It had space pirates, daring rescues, improbably romances, and an addictive soundtrack. They settled back on the couch to watch. Poe could almost recite it line by line, but Finn kept elbowing him so he relented. Mostly.

At some point he must have closed his eyes. He woke up to find his head pillowed on Finn’s chest. Finn’s arm was draped around him and his head was tilted back, mouth open. The snoring was what had woken him. He grinned, shifting slightly, and felt the weight of a blanket draped over them both. The lights had been dimmed, too. He tried to sit up, embarrassed at getting caught like this, but if anyone else had been in the room with them they were long gone. His body wasn’t willing to respond to him anyway. When was the last time he’d slept that heavily? Before Jakku, that was for sure. He sighed, eyes drifting closed again against his will. Another snore rumbled under his cheek. Finn seemed to be sleeping well, too. And that was a good thing. A good reason to stay put, too. Wouldn’t want to wake him. Right. Smiling, he drifted back to sleep.


	2. What'd I Miss?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Poe spends a lot of time waiting for Finn to wake up. But he isn't avoiding his own problems, nope.

Poe was hunched forward, elbows on his knees as he studied the figure on the ICU bed. Dr. Kalonia promised he was improving, but he still looked a little gray to Poe. His hand tightened almost reflexively around Finn’s.  _He likes to have his hand held._  Rey had told him that before she left with Chewbacca and Artoo to retrieve Luke Skywalker. She’d smiled when she said it and he had the sense he was missing something. He’d heard both sides of how they’d met, first from Finn and then from Rey as they shared vigil over his bed, but stories didn’t convey everything and it was clear the two of them shared a deep connection.

Not that it was any of his business, of course. And anyway, they were still kids. Both of them. Let them enjoy that while they still could. He cleared his throat.

“Uh, anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, so Snap’s droid Mr. Bones had a bit of a disagreement with his astromech and... let’s just say Snap’s had to put in for another replacement.”

He smiled. The JJ unit hadn’t taken too much damage, all things considered, but it had been very firm about wanting to be reassigned and so off it had gone. Poe had assigned it to the new squadron, which had too many wet-behind-the-ears pilots as it was and could use an experienced voice. As long as they learned to listen to it.

“I, uh, don’t think you’re missing too much else right now, buddy.” He realized his thumb was rubbing at the webbing between Finn’s thumb and index finger. “We’re mostly packed for the move, now. Lucky bastard, sleeping through all of that.”

His eyes were gritty from lack of sleep and staring at too many blinking controls and starfields as he flew escort missions to the new base. There were... other reasons to stay awake, too. Leia had told him flat-out that if they weren’t so desperate for pilots he’d have been grounded until he recovered from his ordeal on Jakku and he could see Kalonia sizing him up every time she came through to “check on things.”

He slouched back in his chair, still keeping hold of Finn’s hand. He was running on fumes and he knew it, but the Resistance needed him to be strong. And more important than that,  _Leia_  needed him. She’d suffered more losses than any one person should have to suffer. He closed his eyes as tears burned. Commander Solo. Damn it. A small, lonely voice in the back of his head still hoped it had been some kind of terrible misunderstanding and that the old rascal would show up again, but Leia would know. And she’d seemed... diminished since the destruction of the Starkiller base.

The fight was taking its toll on all of them. The losses kept mounting up and the victories seemed only fleeting and the real war hadn’t even begun. He sighed. There was so much left to do...

* * *

 

He twitched awake, heart racing as he tried to figure out what had startled him. The lights in ICU had been dimmed and someone had draped a blanket around him. He sat up straighter, grimacing at the stiffness in his neck. And back. And knees. 

Monitors continued to beep rhythmically. BB-8 had returned from recharging and was stationed beside him. Its head tilted back as it gave an inquisitive chirp.

“Sorry.” He rubbed at his face with his free hand. “Must’ve dozed off...” 

He glanced at the bed and froze.

“ _...Finn?_ ”

“Hey.” He tried for a smile but winced. “What’d I miss?”

“Finn! You’re awake! Ha!” He grinned, giving the hand he was still holding a gentle squeeze and reveling as Finn squeezed back. 

BB-8 whistled and beeped in celebration of “The Thief” coming back online, doing circles around the two of them before bumping against the bed with an insistent chirp.

“Yeah... good t’see... t’see you too, BB-8.” Finn released his hand and gave the droid a soft pat.

Poe flexed his fingers. His hand felt cooler, but he couldn’t stop grinning. “Oh, man, it’s so great to have you back! I was- they were beginning to wonder about you.”

“Rey! What hap-” Finn tried to sit up. The monitors buzzed with alarms as he fell back against the mattress.

“Easy!” Poe tried to steady him, feeling an icy jab in his chest as he saw how much grayer Finn was. “Take it easy! She... Rey’s OK. She and Chewie got you out.”

FX-7 was gliding across the floor towards them. BB-8′s own tone had turned a little frantic as it tried to update the medical assistant droid on what had happened.

Finn grabbed Poe’s hand. “She is? But Kylo...”

“She fought him off, don’t worry.” He patted the hand. “You just concentrate on getting  _yourself_  better, OK?”

FX-7 was trying to shoo him out of the way, but Finn wouldn’t let go.

“She... good. I’m glad.” He squeezed Poe’s hand. “Glad you’re here, too. You’re OK.”

“I’m always OK.” Poe grinned to hide the lie. “Better knowing you’re awake, though. BB-8 was worried.”

BB-8 chirped an affirmative. It leaned against Poe’s legs, staying out of the other droid’s way.

“Hah. He wasn’t the only one.” Finn’s eyes drifted closed. “Thanks. For everything.” His thumb rubbed against the underside of Poe’s wrist before slackening.

FX-7 gently broke contact between them and ordered Poe to go back to his quarters or get admitted himself.

“Let’s go, Beebs.” He nudged the droid, taking one last look at Finn before turning to head for his room. He clenched and unclenched his hand, remembering the warmth and the feel of a calloused thumb against his wrist.   

Finn had woken up. That was the important thing. The rest would work itself out. Eventually. 


	3. Recovering His Appetite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you've grown up in the First Order, even hospital food tastes good.

Poe watched in bemusement as Finn shoveled food into his mouth.

“Mmm! This is incredible! Poe, have you tried this?” The recovering ex-trooper held out a forkful of unidentifiable brown meat in brown sauce.

“Uh, no thanks, buddy,” he said, trying not to lean back. “I already ate.”

“It’s amazing! Some of the best food I’ve had in my life!”

It was, Poe thought, a very sad commentary on the state of the First Order if  _hospital food_  could produce such enthusiasm.

The serving droid warbled happily. Patients generally weren’t happy with what she brought them. One pincer arm sorted through through her stack of trays before producing a second namana custard cup, which she deposited on Finn’s tray with a happy chirp.

Poe grinned. “Looks like you’ve made an impression.”

“Hm?” Finn looked up, swallowing as he saw the droid standing attentively beside his bed. “Oh! Yeah! Thanks! You’re amazing!” He beamed at her.

She beeped at him, producing a third cup. Poe had to cover his mouth, feigning a cough at her ebullient praise of Finn’s intelligence, discerning tastes, and good looks. With a final pat to his knee, she turned and trundled off to deliver the rest of her meals.

“Congratulations on your first conquest,” Poe said, unable to contain his grin any longer.

“Conquest?” 

Poe jerked his chin in the direction of the droid. “I think she likes you. Want me to see if I can get her number for you?”

One of the monitoring devices bleeped as Finn lowered his fork. “Uh... I don’t- I didn’t mean to, uh... I- I’m not really into... uh,  _that_.”

Poe laughed so hard his eyes started to water. It felt good to loosen up. “Oh, buddy, you are  _far_  too easy!” Still chuckling he reached out to give Finn’s arm a reassuring pat. “I was just kidding! It’s fine. Although she is glad you like the food.”

“Yeah, well, jokes aren’t allowed in the First Order,” Finn muttered, poking at his plate.

“Nice try, pal.” Poe was still grinning. “Oh man, you shoulda seen your face!” He laughed again. “Priceless!”

“Oh yeah?” Finn glanced up at him. “Well I’ll take my face over yours, you... you... moof milker.”

“And you said you didn’t have a sense of humor.” Poe wiped the tears from his eyes. “Tell ya what, though. As soon as you’re well enough to get discharged I’ll take you out for some  _real_  food.  _Then_  we’ll see who gets all the glowing praise.”

“It’ll still be the droid.” Finn drank his juice. “Or the chef. Or anyone but you.”

“Now you’re getting the hang of it!” Poe leaned back in his chair, watching his friend eat. The fact that he was able to sit up and feed himself was a tremendous relief. Kalonia had assured him that Finn should recover, but “should” wasn’t “would” and even recovery didn’t guarantee that his friend would be fully functional and under his own power. So far, though, Finn was healing faster than expected... and with the appetite to prove it. He wrinkled his nose as Finn pulled the top off the first namana custard, downing it with gusto. The  _real_  stuff was great, but the artificially flavored mass market garbage left a lot to be desired. Yeah, they definitely needed to hit a restaurant at some point in the near future. If Finn was like this over hospital chow he couldn’t wait to see his reaction to a gourmet meal! He’d have to remember to take a holocam so he could preserve the moment for posterity. ...And maybe use it as blackmail later on. After all, that’s what friends were for.


	4. The Request

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU: Finn's idly singing to himself while he cleans his apartment. He didn't realize anyone was _listening._

It was a beautiful summer day in the city. For once Finn had a day off and he’d decided to spend it cleaning. Probably not the first thing people would think of on a day like this, but the thing was he  _liked_  cleaning. It calmed him. Helped him center. 

He had the slider to the balcony open to let in the fresh breeze and as he worked he sang. Oldies, mostly. Miss Phasma’s Home had a large collection of old CDs and even cassette tapes of classic rock and he’d listened to most of them dozens of times while growing up. Life in the orphanage might not always have been happy, but the music was. He still loved it.

Gradually he became of a high-pitched whining sound coming from outside. Something went  _clunk_  and then  _clunk_  again. He looked out to see a small orange-and-white droid bumbling around his balcony. Frowning, he went to investigate.

“Hey, little guy,” he said, trying to give it a nudge in the right direction. “Park’s across the street if that’s what you’re looking for.”

The droid ignored his efforts and he realized there was a note taped to it. Frowning, he pulled it off and read it. Then read it again a few more times while the droid bumped against him. It was a request.

_Hi, Buddy,_

_If the singer is willing, might I humbly request “Beyond the Sea?”  
 Thank you._

He leaned over the balcony, trying to look for the culprit, but no one was visible.

“Seriously?”

There was no answer, but the droid bobbed up and down. He could feel heat in his face, but it didn’t have anything to do with the sun. Shrugging, he started to sing anyway.

“Somewhere beyond the sea,  
Somewhere waiting for me...”

He straightened the furniture and pruned his tiny garden while he sang, figuring he might as well get it done while he was out there. The droid wobbled back and forth; he had the distinct impression it was trying to dance. Which was ridiculous, right?

When he finished there was applause from... somewhere. The droid gave a little bow and (after a few bumps) went on its way. Finn leaned out again, trying to see where it went, but the sun was directly in his eyes so he missed it.

He thought about trying to get the mysterious requester to identify themself or maybe see if they had any other requests, but he was starting to feel self-conscious about it now, so instead he retreated back into his apartment.

Now that he know, however, he sang a few more songs from Bobby Darin. And then Bing Crosby and Dean Martin. He ran out of cleaning before he ran out of songs. There was another brief burst of applause when he finished. He couldn’t help grinning. His good day had been made even better by the odd encounter. Maybe someday he’d even find out who it was...


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Modern AU: The obligatory Coffee Shop AU, via the prompt: "i ordered a pumpkin spice latte at starbucks and you made a heart with the foam and i decided to drink it here so i can smile at you some more’ au"

It was a beautiful Fall morning and despite his exhaustion, Finn was in a pretty good mood. He was finally finished moving in, had slept in his own bed in his own room for the first time  _ever_ , and had a good feeling about his job prospects. Even better there was a funky little coffee shop just down the road from his apartment.

Coffee and pastry-scented warm air wafted over him as he pulled open the door to Dameron Fine Cuppa Coffee. A quick check of the chalkboard showed that the drink he was craving was, indeed, on the menu.

“Good morning!” The barista gave him a dazzling smile. “What can I get for ya?”

“Uh.” Finn realized he was staring. “Sorry, uh, can I have a grande pumpkin spice latte, please?”

“I don’t know,  _can_  you?” The barista winked. “You  _may_  have one, though.” He shifted behind the espresso machine. “Are you enjoying our beautiful Portland weather?”

“Yeah! I just moved in up the street and it looks like I timed everything perfectly!” He was babbling. He was also staring, again. Did the Mayans have a god of coffee?

The barista’s smile widened, crinkling around his eyes. “Well in that case, welcome to the neighborhood!” He held his hand out. “I’m Poe, Poe Dameron.”

“Dameron, huh? As in Dameron Fine...” He took the proffered hand. A strong grip, but not crushing. And very warm. “Uh. I’m Finn Smith.” He remembered to let go.

“Finn,” Poe said as if tasting the sound of it. “I like it! Tell me something, Finn.” 

He leaned closer and Finn found himself leaning in, too.

“How’d you like me to spice it up?” He waggled his eyebrows.

Finn felt heat rush to his cheeks and hoped it wasn’t obvious. It probably was. “I, uh, sure! That sounds great!” He had no idea what Poe was talking about, but with a look like that it had to be good.

“I knew you were a good man, Finn Smith.”

He knew he said something in reply. He wasn’t sure what, but it made Poe laugh. They chatted while the drink was being concocted, stopping only when the whip made it too noisy.

“Here, tell me what you think.”

Their fingers brushed as he took the cup, which was a completely normal thing and didn’t mean anything at all. Until he saw the heart in the foam.

“I...” He looked up. Poe was watching him, expectant. There was no reading his expression beyond that. The heart was probably just... some default thing. Yes. He took a careful sip.

It was sharper and sweeter than usual. He hummed in pleasure and took another sip, which was as good as the first.

“It’s delicious!” He grinned at Poe, who grinned back at him. “It’s like pumpkin spice, but more!”

“I’m glad you liked it.” Poe leaned against the counter. “It’s a secret family recipe handed down from generation to generation.” He paused, biting his lower lip. “Of course if you stick around, maybe some day I’ll tell you what it is.”

Finn gulped hot latte, trying to hide behind his mug. “I’d like you- that! That! I- I’d like that. I guess. I mean-”

Chuckling, Poe put a cinnamon roll on a small plate and slid it towards him.

“Here. It’s on the house, for my favorite new customer.”

Muttering a mix of apologies and thanks, Finn took the plate and managed to get to a table without any disasters. The handful of other customers in the shop seemed to have missed the whole exchange, but one girl on a laptop looked up at him and smirked before returning to her typing. 

Finn ate a leisurely breakfast he hadn’t been planning to have and watched Poe work behind the counter. Despite what his ex employers had said he was pretty sure this was turning out to be the best decision of his life. He couldn’t wait to see what happened next.


	6. A Tight Fit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obligatory "trapped in a small space" ficlet, also via prompt.

“I thought you said this was a storage closet!” Poe shifted, trying to find a more comfortable position in the cramped quarters. It wasn’t possible. “What do they store in here, toothpicks?”

The cubbies he could feel pressing into his shoulders were bigger than toothpick boxes, but his point stood: the space they were crammed into was barely big enough for one of them, never mind both.

“Uh, yeah.” Finn huffed, his breath hot against Poe’s neck. “Sorry. It, uh, might be more of a charging station for the mouse droids.”

Poe blinked. “Mouse droids. Right.”

They froze, listening to the sound of armored feet jogging in formation passed the door. The plan to infiltrate the  _Pestilent_ had gone off without a hitch right up until they’d turned a corner and been confronted by a visiting Captain Phasma. She’d sounded the alarm (and started shooting at them, herself) and now, well, they’d think of something. Probably.

“I don’t mean to complain, Poe,” Finn murmured as another squad passed their hiding space, “but your blaster is digging into my hip.”

“My b-” Poe’s eyes widened. He had never been more grateful for the dark that hid his blush. “Oh! Right! Blaster. Sorry, buddy. You know how it is.” Did he sound strangled? He thought he sounded strangled. Of all the times for his body to betray him this  _really_ wasn’t the time. He hadn’t even sorted out his own feelings for Finn, never mind how Finn might feel about him. His body, however, seemed to have some definite ideas.

“Yeah. I do.”

His breath was tickling Poe’s ear and that was not helping at all. He licked his lips, swallowing against a confused muddle of emotions.

“Just like I know you keep your blaster in your back holster.” Finn shifted against him, sending little shocks up his spine and down into his extremities. He felt Finn’s arm slide around his waist, his hand settling at the small of his back, right over the holster in question.

“Uh…” Poe’s brain was shutting down, half in panic and half in something he didn’t want to think about.

“I guess that means this is your other weapon.”

Finn’s mouth was pressed against his ear. He couldn’t breathe. What the kriff was going on? Was Finn putting the moves on him? He couldn’t actually think that-

Hips shifted and his breath caught as he realized he could feel something pressing against his thigh, too. His heart sped even faster.

“This is my blaster, this is my gun,” Finn murmured. “One is for shooting, the other’s for fun.”

It took a minute for the words to register and then Poe snorted. “What?!”

“That’s what they taught us in trooper training.” Finn’s mouth was pressed into a smile against Poe’s jaw.

“That’s- that’s-” Poe couldn’t suppress a giggle.

“Terrible, right?” Finn chuckled, too.

Poe’s giggles dissolved into full-on laughter. He and Finn sagged against each other, laughing helplessly. When a confused tech opened the door Finn elbowed him in the throat and caught Poe’s hand.

“C’mon, man, it’s time to get this  _gun show_  on the road.”

Grinning, they continued their daring escape.


	7. A Hot Piece of Work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based off [this awesome piece of art](http://kevinwada.tumblr.com/post/162631619751/poe-dameron-x-wing-mechanic-2017-commission) by Kevin Wada.

Finn swiped the back of his hand across his forehead as he finished the call back to the base to let them know where they were and that they were (mostly) OK. The planet they’d crashed on wasn’t Jakku, but it was just as bad. Hot. Dry. Sandy. Poe had promised to show him a beach some day just so he could see that sand wasn’t always a bad thing. And then he’d proceeded to curse a blue streak when he saw just how much of the “nice” sand was clogging the intakes on the battered old U-wing they’d been flying. Poe had set to work cleaning it out and trying to fix the damaged S-foil while Finn’s job had been to repair the comms. His own mission accomplished he climbed out of the cockpit to let Poe know that help was on the way. Eventually. 

He dropped to the hot sand, wincing at the bright glare that set the whole world shimmering.

“Hey Poe!” He shielded his eyes, but couldn’t see anyone from his vantage point. “Brance says they can send a ship, but it’ll be a day or two before one is ready!”

“Good, because that left vent is completely karked. We won’t be going anywhere without it.” Poe ducked out from under the wing where he’d been working, BB-8 trailing in his wake.

Finn stared. Poe had tied his flightsuit off at his waist, leaving his top bare except for a grubby white tank top. His hair was disheveled and he had smears of grease all over him. There was a loop of tubing hooked over one arm, but Finn hardly noticed as Poe rucked up his shirt to scratch his chest.

“Good thing you remembered to make sure we were stocked on supplies, huh?” Poe grinned at him as he joined him in the shade of the nose.

Finn flashed hot and cold. His heart was hammering and his stomach seemed to be doing somersaults. What the hell was wrong with him? This was Poe. His friend. I mean, OK, maybe there’d been a couple of times where he’d wondered if it could be more than that, but those had been idle thoughts. Really! Not like... like this. Dark hairs crowded behind the knot in Poe’s flightsuit and he could imagine them getting thicker and curlier until they reached-

“Hey, you all right?”

The hand on his shoulder startled him and he yanked his attention upwards, praying to whatever forces might be listening that Poe couldn’t tell he was blushing.

“Yeah! Uh, yeah, it’s just...” His eyes traveled along the curve of Poe’s neck to his jaw, which was dusted with a smear of sand. He licked his lips. “...Hot.” 

“Yeah, tell me about it, buddy.”

Poe’s hand moved to the back of his neck and it took all of his control not to lean forward and kiss him. He trembled with it.

“Drink some water, okay?” Poe bit his lip, a familiar gesture that suddenly sent a shiver through Finn’s gut. “BB-8 says there’s a cave system on the other side of this ridge. We’ll set up the emergency tent in there and maybe keep some of the heat off, yeah?” He winked.

Finn was pretty sure he was dead, but he managed to stammer out some kind of affirmative. With another warning to stay hydrated, Poe walked over to where they’d tossed their packs earlier, stripping off his shirt as he went. 

Finn inhaled as golden light gleamed over rippling muscles. Poe bent over to pick up the packs and he stopped breathing. Flightsuits were decidedly unsexy and orange was not a flattering color, but the way it clung to every curve...

“Kriff. I’m dead.”

Something bumped into his leg. He yelped and looked down to see BB-8′s dome tilted up at him. He realized xe had warbled something at him.

“What?”

BB-8 waggled back and forth and hooted. How xe managed to sound lewd without using actual words was a mystery.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Finn could feel his blush spreading. “Literally. You know I don’t speak binary. But whatever you’re saying, you’re wrong.”

BB-8 blatted at him, bumped into his leg again, and rolled off to catch up with Poe.

“It’s not like that,” he said, and wished he believed it. He watched a half-naked Poe disappear over the ridge and sighed. Maybe if he got lucky the sand would open up and swallow him. At least things couldn’t get any more embarrassing.

The thought comforted him until he reached the cave and realized there was only one tent. And it was small. It was going to be a long couple of days.


	8. Death from Above

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finn is being brutally attacked by a flying monster, so why is Poe laughing at him?

Finn was leaning against a tree near the base, eyes closed, enjoying the breeze and the feel of sunlight on his skin. There was a brief whisper of sound and something landed on his head, sharp points pressing against his skull.

Screaming, he ducked away from the tree, flailing his arms. Whatever it was took off and he glanced up to see some kind of round winged  _thing_ hovering in the air, watching him.

“Shoo!” He swung an arm at it, backing away. “Scram! I’m not your dinner!”

It swooped closer and he covered his head with his arms, yelling again.

“Finn!” Poe was coming towards him at a dead run. “Finn, what’s wr-” He skidded to a halt, staring up at the monster.

“Poe! This thing just attacked me!” He dropped his arms. “I didn’t do anyth- Poe?” 

Poe was still staring up, his mouth open in- what was that? Surprise? Horror? Finn froze, wondering just how much trouble he was in. His attacker took advantage of his distraction by landing on his head again and making a soft chittering sound.

Finn ducked his head again, wincing at the claws, but at least they didn’t seem to be shredding his scalp. Yet. Poe’s reaction made him too nervous to risk angering it.

“Wh- What is it?” Finn tried to hold still. The thing on his head chittered again and he felt something tugging at his hair. “Am I... am I gonna die?” 

“Are you... what?” Poe’s paralysis broke.

Finn felt his cheeks burn as his so-called friend started to laugh. Not even in a friendly joke way, but a full-on belly laugh. And every time he looked at Finn, who was still holding still, he laughed harder, bracing his hands on his knees to keep from collapsing.

“Yeah, yeah, funny man.” Finn glared at him. “Wanna let me in on the joke?”

“Oh,  _stars_ , Finn!” Poe wiped at his eyes and struggled for composure. 

Finn tried waving his hand at whatever was on his head, but this time all the thing did was settle down a little more firmly. Its tail tickled the back of his neck.

Poe coughed, covering his mouth as if that could hide his grin. “It’s ah... You’re fine, Finn.” He dropped his hand, giving up any pretense of not being amused by Finn’s plight. “Sorry, I was just surprised. I didn’t realize there were any convoree around here.”

“And what the kriff is a convoree?” Finn clenched his fists, reminding himself that he couldn’t actually punch Poe, however tempting it might be.

“The singular is convor,” Poe said. “It’s a type of bird,” The bird in question seemed to chirr in agreement. 

“So it isn’t going to kill me?”

Another cough. “No! No, uh, in fact some people believe they’re sacred animals. They’d probably say you were blessed to have it choose you.”

“I don’t  _feel_ very blessed.” Finn shook his head, wincing as the claws dug in a bit more and the thing- the convor- scolded him. “So how do I get rid of it?”

“I don’t know.” Poe’s eyes gleamed. “Maybe you’ll just have to get used to having a new friend.”

“Kriff you, Dameron,” he said, reaching up to poke the bird that was continuing to nibble at his hair. “And kriff you, too, bird.”

It gurgled, gently nipped his finger, and went back to- was it  _preening_ him? If there were any small mercies it was that Rey wasn’t here to witness it.

That’s when he heard the snap of Poe’s holocam.


End file.
